


the spirit of giving

by lazulisong



Series: Fat Bill [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, K/S Advent Calendar, M/M, fat bill - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:52:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazulisong/pseuds/lazulisong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gift giving, his father said, looking shifty, was nearly logical; it built obligation and showed due appreciation for previous favors. In that spirit, Sarek had prepared a small gift for both his wife and his son. Because it was traditional on his wife's planet, after all.</p><p>"Never mind, darling," said Amanda to Spock, privately, "it makes him feel better."</p>
            </blockquote>





	the spirit of giving

**Author's Note:**

> Author not responsible for any dental bills, although after the explosion of the trailer on Tumblr, I think we could all use a little NOBODY IS GONNA DIE right now, no?
> 
> Also this is not exactly in timeline for the Fat Bill thing, but I think we're all aware there's only way that one's gonna end anyway. A side story, maybe?

His father had always slunk his way into the house, late on Yule evening, after Spock and his mother had spent the day celebrating it as the Terrans did. Sarek said that eating cake -- or versions that Spock's Vulcan digestion could tolerate thereof -- and decorating a room was illogical. They would just have to clean it up the next day and it wasn't good for a developing stomach to eat vanilla buttercream frosting and white chocolate.

Gift giving, his father said, looking shifty, was nearly logical; it built obligation and showed due appreciation for previous favors. In that spirit, Sarek had prepared a small gift for both his wife and his son. Because it was traditional on his wife's planet, after all.

"Never mind, darling," said Amanda to Spock, privately, "it makes him feel better."

It was a long time before Spock really understood what she meant.

* * *

Spock had almost forgotten that until just now, the second Yule after his mother's death. The first Yule had been awful, made bearable only because of the knowledge, inescapable, that everybody on the ship was just as miserable and lonely as he was. Vulcans prefered common experiences, and even the humans and other aliens on board the Enterprise seemed to draw a sort of strength from their shared grief. Nobody was expected to be happy, or cheerful, or even pretend to enjoy anything. Nothing would be the same after this, and it was silently agreed to let the Yule season pass with only a few efforts at acknowledgement.

"It's better this way," said the captain. "Christ, imagine the hit in morale if we insisted on carols in the halls."

"Indeed, sir," said Spock. His mother loved carols. She loved to sing them and smiled brilliantly when he sang with her.

Kirk got up, thumped him companionably on the shoulder, and said, "It will dull down a little. Give it time."

"Sir," said Spock politely. His shoulder tingled from where Kirk had touched it and it seemed impossible that this pain would ever lessen, but -- Kirk probably knew what he was talking about, after all.

* * *

Now, this second Yule after everything, people were beginning to feel a little distance from their grief, and to feel as if they should uphold their traditions. Overnight, the living quarters blossomed out in holographic and replicated evergreens, tied in gold and red, and Uhura invited Spock to practice songs for a celebration on Yule night.

His mother would have told him to do it and enjoy himself. Enjoyment was a strange human thing to consider, but Spock had promised himself that he would try to live so that his mother wouldn't be disappointed in him. And it was pleasant, after all, to hear Nyota's clear sweet voice sweeping up in the air as she sang.

There were other things, too. Sarek had sent him a present, and so had Admiral Pike, and he had sent them dutiful presents in return. Even the other officers had their little presents from him to show his obligation toward them, but -- what was he to get the captain?

Spock sat in his quarters and puzzled over his PADD. McCoy had been given a box of peaches, and Nyota a rare data file of Vulcan music. Scott had been given a bottle of whiskey. Jim, though, what was he to get Jim? Spock felt a sudden flash of sympathy for his father, alone in the merchants' quarter, attempting to find something to please a person who expected nothing and offered everything.

There was a warning chirp from the ground, and in the next instant the cat called Fat Bill landed heavily beside him, curling up against his thigh.

"Humans are very confusing," he told Fat Bill.

Fat Bill bumped his hard forehead against Spock's hand and purred.

This was not as comforting as Fat Bill had perhaps intended, but Spock scratched his scent glands and looked at the catalog again.

The captain, as far as Spock had been able to observe, was fond of:

\- drinking, as long as he wasn't with McCoy  
\- flirting with sentient beings and also sometimes the ship  
\- talking about the ship  
\- reading antique books  
\- things that went extremely fast, like, for example, the ship.

Spock sighed.

* * *

On Yule night, Spock accompanied Nyota as she and the others sang. Her voice was as sweet as ever, soaring up in the notes of the song as his lyre followed her. He could see the captain, sitting in the front row, resting his chin on his fist, listening intently. It wasn't exactly the same as playing for his mother. Spock thought he would always like to be here, on the Enterprise, listening to Nyota sing, and watching the captain listening to them.  
When the song ended, the captain applauded with the rest, but caught Spock's eye and smiled at him. Spock looked down quickly, lest he smile back.

 

"You guys did great," said the captain, later. He was curled up in one of Spock's chairs with Fat Bill on his lap, a rare concession on both of their parts. Spock was still holding his lyre, had been playing for Jim, and the cat Fat Bill knew he could not jump on Spock's lap with the fragile Vulcan lyre already in Spock's hands. Jim's hand moved absently down the animal's back, smoothing his fur. Spock thought it would be quite lovely to be Fat Bill, to have Jim's hand stroking down his back like that.

"Thank you, sir," said Spock. He hesitated, and said, diffidently, "Thank you as well for the opportunity to speak to my father this morning, sir. I know it was --"

Jim waved his free hand negligently. "It's hard on holidays," he said. "And you're a hard person to find a gift for, First Officer." He smiled in the way that meant he hoped for a positive emotional response from Spock, but would not press for one.

"You as well, sir," said Spock, at his very driest, and was rewarded by a flash of bright smile.

"Gift credits," said the captain easily. "Can't go wrong with that, right."

"Perhaps," said Spock politely. He stood up and put his lyre back in the case, covering it carefully with the silk cloth before shutting and locking the case. "Nevertheless, captain, I prefer gifts with more meaning."

"That sounds like an emotion," said Jim, mouth twitching as he tried to hide a smile.

"Perish the thought, sir," said Spock. He took a deep breath, let it slowly and walked over to the captain. "I thought this would be the most meaningful," he said. He knelt down beside the chair, and reached out to touch Jim's cheek, pulling his head down to touch their lips together.

After a minute, Fat Bill wiggled out from between them and stalked off indignantly.

"A blessed Yule to you, sir," said Spock, when they separated at last.

"Thank you for the present," said Jim, his hand still curled around Spock's jaw. He kissed Spock again, soft on the corner of his mouth. "I love it."

"I'm glad," said Spock.


End file.
